Scarburg Meadhall

[Folwren]

“I come from the West Emnet,” Ledwyn replied. “My husband was killed in an accident, by no fault of his, leaving me and our son Theolain to fair on our own. My young brother fed us and kept us warm for a year, but now he has his own family to feed. He would not abandon his kin, even if it meant for him and his wife to go hungry. I thought that… I mean, we shouldn’t have... I could not continue like that… We…” Ledwyn was unsure of where to procede. “If I could live here, I would not be a burden for him,” she finished.

Saeryn laid a hand gently on Ledwyn's, expressing through her touch and look that she did not have to try to explain herself further. She waited until Ledwyn raised her eyes to meet hers before she smiled, and answered.

"Of course you will be welcome to make your home here," she said gently. "We do not turn away the fatherless and the widows." This, at least, she assumed. This had been the rule under Eodwine, and since Athanar's coming, no one had come unexpectedly into the camp to ask for a home. But surely - surely, she thought - they would not turn away this mother and her child. She looked down at Theolain and could not resist running her hand over his ample shock of hair.

"Tell me what you do and how you hope to fit in here."

[Galadriel55]

Ledwyn’s mind was set at rest when Lady Saeryn assured her that she would be able to stay. The Lady was soft-spoken and kind-hearted, Ledwyn deemed. She did not grudge her motherly gesture to Theolain – and Saeryn herself would become mother as well soon enough – though the boy shied away bewilderedly from the strange touch. Ledwyn smiled slightly. This young woman was of high birth and probably the Eorl’s wife, yet she spoke with Ledwyn as if she was a lady too instead of a homeless village girl.

"Tell me what you do and how you hope to fit in here,” the Lady Saeryn asked. A question fit for the Eorl’s wife, Ledwyn thought. She has to know whom she is bringing to the hearth.

“I fear I do not know any trade or craft, if that is what you mean, my Lady,” she said, talking a piece of bread from the trencher that Saeryn brought her. “I am like all the womenfolk of my village: we were not taught skills beyond our necessity. I kept the house while my husband laboured. I can cook, sew, wash, and do all the things that a woman must do, but little beyond that.” Ledwyn bit off a piece of the loaf, gathering her daring. She knew she should not speak out of turn with any Lord or Lady, but Saeryn was gentle and invited conversation. “Are there other women in the Hall? What do they do?”

[Folwren]

"There are a few of us," Saeryn replied. She looked up and turned towards the table where the men sat eating. "There is Rowenna, speaking with the men there. You no doubt saw her as you came in, but maybe you did not notice her. And there," she went on, turning to look over her other shoulder, "is Kara, bringing out more bread, as you see. Ginna, Frodides, and Modtryth are in the kitchen. Lady Wynflaed is Lord Athanar's wife, and she does not take as much part in the running of the household as the rest of us. She has a couple hand maidens who help her, Lelige is the head of these. Aedhel, is the healer.

"There are a couple girls. Leodern is Garstan's daughter. And Aedre is Athanar's and Wynflaed's daughter. And that is all," she said. "As you can surmise from the telling, we are sadly outnumbered by the men." She laughed.

"You're coming will be more welcome than you know!" she said. "We are overwhelmed with the work that must be done to keep so many men from going hungry! You have exactly the skills we need, so do not worry that you will be a burden to us. You cannot be, trully. You will not be. Here, as soon as you are finished, I will take you to meet the other women in the kitchen. We will get you settled in directly and find a place for you and your son. It may be rough at first, we don't have very good quarters yet, being still in the process of building, but we'll make do."

[Galadriel55]

Theolain

Theolain quickly finished off the food and milk that Mother gave him, scattering crumbs on the floor. Mother did not seem to hurry, and Theolain was becoming impatient. When will she finish her food? And they already ate this morning, so why is she eating again?

And that other woman, the fat one. Who is she? Why is she talking to Mother, when Mother could be doing something? She touched his head. She is not allowed to touch his head. There are only three people who are allowed – Mother, Uncle, and Aunt. No, Aunt is not allowed. She always wants to do something with his hair. Only Mother and Uncle. Not some fat woman. Why does she never stop talking? Leave Mother alone!

Theolain looked around in search for a muddy stick to play with, like the one Mother took away from him before they came to this strange place. He saw no puddles. But he saw a stick lying near the fireplace. He knew that fire is warm, but it hurts when you touch it. It doesn’t like to be touched, just like Theolain. The boy wished he could bite everyone who touched him just like fire. But the stick wasn’t in the fire. It was on the ground. Does that mean it won’t bite? It was red and glowing on one end. Strange. Sticks are brown, not red. And they only shine when they are wet from a puddle, they don’t glow. Theolain went to investigate.

Ledwyn

The names Lady Saeryn called flew right by Ledwyn. She could not remember so many at once. Only one caught her mind – Lady Wynflaed, Lord Athanar’s wife. How could that be? If Saeryn was not his wife, could she be his sister?

"You're coming will be more welcome than you know!" Saeryn continued. "We are overwhelmed with the work that must be done to keep so many men from going hungry! You have exactly the skills we need, so do not worry that you will be a burden to us. You cannot be, truly. You will not be. Here, as soon as you are finished, I will take you to meet the other women in the kitchen. We will get you settled in directly and find a place for you and your son. It may be rough at first, we don't have very good quarters yet, being still in the process of building, but we'll make do."

“I thank you, my Lady,” Ledwyn said. She took the last bits of egg from the platter and put it aside. “Is the kitchen -” she begun, and then noticed her son reaching to a hot coal that somehow fell out of the hearth. “Theolain!” He looked up innocently. Ledwyn took him by the hand and led him away from the danger. “I thought you knew that fire is hot.” Theolain looked back longingly.

[Folwren]

Saeryn looked on curiously as Ledwyn snatched her son out of danger and scolded him mildly. She reflected that soon she would be having the same cares as this woman had. And the same fears. She smiled as Ledwyn took the boy away and then stood up and picked up the trenchers from the breakfast.

"You were about to ask about the kitchen?" she said. "Come, I will show you." She led the way down the corridor a few steps to the door of the kitchen and went in ahead of her. "Kara, Frodides, and Ginna," she announced. "This is Ledwyn, and she's going to stay with us. This is her son, Theolain."

[Galadriel55]

Ledwyn inclined her head to each of the women in turn, exchanging some words with each. Work was soon found for her, and, sitting Theolain down in a corner, she got about to doing it.

Theolain did not like sitting in the corner. He did not like sitting at all, unless it was when someone told him stories. He watched Mother and the other women run about, cutting, boiling, frying, cooking, baking, washing, and doing all the other chores around the kitchen. But Theolain got tired of them soon, and seeing that Mother was concentrated on the food and more talking he stood up and went to explore the world behind the kitchen door.

Men were sitting around tables, eating. They all eat too much. Theolain did not need to eat this much, or this long. Was eating the only thing they do at this place? Eating, cutting, baking, frying, and eating?

But they also have a red stick.

It was still beside the hearth, where he had first seen it, though it did not glow as brightly. He came to it, tripping over his legs twice in his haste. No one wanted to stop him. Why didn’t Mother let him take it? The stick is not in the fire. He kneeled before it on hands and knees.

Slowly but surely, savouring the moment – sweet as fulfilled curiosity was, it was made sweeter by the knowledge that if Mother had been there she would never have let him get so near to the forbidden stick – he brought his face closer to it, examining how the light shifted slightly whenever he breathed. Eyes shining, he muttered something inaudible in his own language, as if talking to this strange stick that responded to his words with a renewed redness. Finally, he lifted his hand and took hold of the living creature inside the stick . . .

. . . and immediately jerked it back, as pain shot through his fingers. This is not fair! Why did the stick bite? Sticks do not hurt Theolain. Fire hurts, but fire is in the fireplace. Fire does not live in sticks; the sticks live in the fire, and the fire lives in the fireplace! This was a trick! The stick tricked him! This is not fair!

Theolain loudly let the world know about his distress. Angry and indignant at the red stick, he took it and threw it at the wall. He wailed again as the red creature bit his hand once more.

[Firefoot]

Léof nodded, not looking the Elf in the face. The intensity of Laerdil’s gaze and the depth in his eyes was… not frightening, exactly. Awe-inspiring, in a way. Thinking back on it later, Léof would find that he had no word to describe the emotion the Elf evoked in him. But just now, Léof found it easier to think without making eye contact. “Yes, some,” he said, thinking of his sister Cerwyn, and Quin, and to slightly lesser degrees Eodwine and Thornden.

His train of thought was cut off by a sudden loud wail just behind him. Léof jumped with a shout, startled nearly out of his wits. He turned in time to see an unfamiliar young boy pick up a red-hot stick and hurl it with all the might in his small arm against the wall.

Léof hastened to the screaming boy’s side and knelt beside him, drawing him close with one arm and using his other hand to turn the boy’s burned hand palm up. Sure enough, the entire hand was already bright red.

“Someone bring a pail of cold water!” he said.